


"Proof Through the Night (September 12th, 2001)"

by matrixrefugee



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 9/11, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-29 04:28:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14465022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matrixrefugee/pseuds/matrixrefugee
Summary: The day after America's worst day ever, his big brother England comforts him





	"Proof Through the Night (September 12th, 2001)"

**Author's Note:**

> I actually wrote this fic last year, intending to post it to remember the tenth anniversary of the terrorist attacks on the WTC and the Pentagon, but I decided to hold off (I think my fear of the Art Police had a role in it). And then I just plain forgot to post it. But here it is today. I got the idea over on TVTropes's Crowning Moment of Heartwarming page, when someone posted a bit in the Real Life section, describing how, on the day after 9/11, the American anthem was played at Buckingham Palace during the changing of the guard: "If countries are people and their anthems are their lullabies, this was Mother England comforting her injured child."

England gazed down on America's battered face and form, as his younger brother lay curled painfully under the covers of his hospital bed. His young brother was strong and plucky -- probably the best things about his noisy, boisterous personality -- and it took a good deal to keep him down when he was hit. But this time seemed like that time and it almost looked as though he might not get up again. Someone had come out of the blue and beaten him senseless.

America could be a braggart and an utter yobbo sometimes, particularly when he was blowing his own tin horn, but at heart, his little brother meant well. Never mind that big quarrel that they'd had, when America and England parted ways. When Germany, Italy and Japan had ganged up on him (with Japan making what America would call an end run around America to try and distract him), America and Russia had come to save him. He couldn't let that kindness go unrecognized, especially at a time like this.

Whoever had done this, they would likely pay for their cruelty, once America was back on his feet. Signs were pointing to someone from the Middle East, and there was talk that someone who'd been bullying Afghanistan had had a hand in this.

But that would be something to consider when America had recovered and felt strong enough to stand on his feet again.

England perched himself on the edge of the bed, slipping his arm behind America's shoulders, angling the younger country's head against his chest. He felt America stir a bit, but his blackened eyes were too swollen to open. Gently, England lay a hand on his brother's cheek and started to hum under his brearh, uncertain at first.

_"Oh-hh say can you see_  
By the dawn's early light  
What so proudly we hailed  
At the twilight's last gleaming..." 

He felt America twitch in his arms, then shift a bit, as if he were coming out of his coma. England drew in a breath and started to sing more in earnest, softly, but gaining energy.

_"Whose broad stripes and bright stars_  
Through the perilous fight  
O'er the ramparts we watched  
Were so gallantly streaming..." 

Funny, that song had been penned when England and America had had another quarrel, when England had tried to strong-arm his brother into coming home. But America had stood his ground and shown England that he could take care of himself. Now, he couldn't help wondering if America's cockiness had gotten him into this situation, or if it was simply a case of someone picking a fight with the young country.

_"And the rocket's red glare,_  
The bombs bursting in air,  
Gave proof through the night  
That our flag was still there..." 

America coughed in his throat, his eyelids fluttering as he struggled to awaken. The words seemed to be bringing him out of this coma.

 _"Oh, say! does that star-spangled_  
Banner yet wave  
O'er the land of the free  
And the home of the brave?"

England sang out in earnest, still softly, but with a gentle power in his voice. As he came to the last words, America lifted his head and opened his eyes, bloodshot, but looking into his.

"Hey, bro... thanks... Wish I could return the favor, but... I'm a bit sore," he managed to croak.

"You rest up: you have a lot of work ahead of you, a lot of recovering to do," England said.

"Can't rest, gotta find the bastards who did this," America said, trying to sit up, but his eyes rolled in his head and he sank into England's arms.

"I know you will, but that's not for now," England insisted.

"All right, all right, just... don't leave me all alone, bro," America pleaded.

"I shall be here when you wake up," England said, gently laying his little brother back onto his red and white striped pillows...


End file.
